


You Should See the Way It Feels

by Nestra



Series: Michael Guerin Week 2019 [7]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Canon Bisexual Character, Gen, Siblings, guerinweek19, mgweek19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 06:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nestra/pseuds/Nestra
Summary: "Isobel never needed an excuse to hang out with him, and Michael loved her for that."





	You Should See the Way It Feels

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Michael Guerin Week 2019, Day 7 for the prompt "It’s a real bisexual alien blast around here." Title from a song by David Wilcox.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to grit kitty for beta.

Isobel never needed an excuse to hang out with him, and Michael loved her for that. Sure, most of the time it came cloaked in her special brand of bossiness, but when she called and said, "Meet me at the Crashdown for some of those disgusting enchiladas you love," it didn't mean that. Or, it did, but it meant other things beyond that.

Plus, he was always in the mood for enchiladas.

"You don't have to fit the whole thing in your mouth at once, you know." Isobel had started the conversation short-tempered and gotten snippier as they went on, and Michael had no trouble deciphering that mood. She had something on her mind that she wanted to talk about, but resented having to talk about it. He just had to decide whether to prod her into it or let her get there in her own time.

"Best way to combine the flavors," he mumbled with a half-full mouth.

"Try to have some manners." She wadded up a paper napkin and tossed at him, and he grinned unrepentantly at her.

"How are things with you and Alex?"

He took another big bite to annoy her, and also to stall for time. While he chewed, she took a sip of her diet soda and pushed some lettuce around her plate. "I did not agree to come here and talk about me," he said. "I was promised enchiladas, and that's it."

"But you're okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "We're okay." A work in progress, and maybe they'd always be, but at least they were working on it.

That helped him narrow down what she wanted to talk about. If she was only concerned about his relationship, she'd be in a better mood, because she loved interfering in other people's lives. But she'd introduced the topic, so it probably related to whatever was on her mind.

"You asking for a reason? Looking to get back on the horse?"

She sneered in disgust at the metaphor. "Please."

Isobel hated other people interfering in her life, of course. Too bad.

"No surprise if you're not into dating for a while. With the whole—"

She waved a freshly manicured hand around dismissively. "Yes, exactly, you don't need to say it."

"—Noah thing." He'd make up for that later with a chocolate shake that she claimed to hate and would steal half of, but she had to talk about it at some point. At least start saying his name.

"I might as well swear off men entirely. Since I had no idea my so-called husband was a psychopathic alien serial killer." She mouthed the last four words, though honestly, Michael didn't think anyone who overheard anything would give it a second thought. It was Roswell, after all.

But she'd slipped something into that sentence, and she probably thought he hadn't noticed. "Swearing off men?"

She avoided his eyes, tearing another napkin into smaller and smaller pieces. "How did you know? With Alex? That you were bisexual, I mean, not—anything about you and him specifically."

"Why? You interested in someone?"

"What? No!" she protested, just like she had in ninth grade when Michael asked if she'd shoplifted that new purse.

"Right." He took a guess. "Is it Rosa?"

She blushed and looked away as if the jukebox was suddenly the most interesting thing in the diner.

"Of course, must be you and Liz."

"No," she said, aiming a kick at him under the table. "Very funny. Fine, it's Rosa. Maybe. I don't know. It's so weird."

"I bet it is." Rosa'd had to start with the fact that the Isobel she knew wasn't really Isobel at all. Except Isobel still had some of those memories and had experienced those emotions in flashbacks. Did that make it real? He had no idea, and he was glad it wasn't his problem.

"You know what Liz is like," Isobel continued. "Once she figured out that I hadn't killed those girls, she went on a crusade to make up for believing it in the first place. So she's pushing Rosa to get to know the 'real me'."

"And how's that going?"

"_So_ weird," she repeated. "I just…it feels like there are these vibes? But maybe it's just part of the whole mess with Noah, remembering the way he felt about her. Which is so gross."

He shrugged. "Spend more time with her. Make new memories and see how it feels."

"But how did you know?" she pushed.

"With Alex? He tried to kiss me, and I couldn't stop thinking about him."

She slumped into the corner of the booth and sighed. "Am I supposed to wait for her to kiss me? I don't think that's going to work. I need facts, Michael. Something to work with."

"I don't know what to tell you, Iz." He leaned forward, pushing his plate out of the way. "It is what it is. You know how I feel about him. He makes me feel…like me. Not an alien or a guy who wasted all of his potential and barely makes minimum wage working at a junkyard. Just me. And even though things didn't work out with Maria, she made me feel the same way." 

"And what, genitals aren't important?"

"Oh, no," he said, waggling his eyebrows and picking up a french fry for emphasis. "Genitals are very important."

"Ugh, you're so juvenile sometimes," Isobel said, stealing the french fry out of his hand and eating it.

"Either you talk to me about it or you talk to Max, and then Max will tell Liz, and Liz will tell Rosa…"

She shuddered and took another fry. "Maybe I'll just move to Alaska and live among strangers. I hear it's very peaceful up there."

"Think about it this way. Maybe where we come from, everyone is bi. Maybe sexuality isn't even a concept."

"Then we'd only have the civil war to deal with. But probably no french fries. And you owe me a shake now." She held up two fingers to catch the server's attention.

"I gave you advice," Michael said, pulling his enchiladas back in front of him. "Why do I owe you a shake?"

"Because I'm having an identity crisis, and that calls for chocolate."

The server came over and took their order, and Isobel was quiet for a few minutes while Michael finished his food. He shoved the plates out of the way again to make room for the shake that was coming. "Be careful, okay? You and Rosa—it could get messy real quick, and Max will freak out if anything goes wrong with Liz."

"I will," she promised. "I don't know. It may be nothing. But I need to figure it out. I can't live with him in my head forever."

The shake arrived: whipped cream, sprinkles, two cherries on top. He grabbed both before she could stop him.

"You're the worst," she said, retaliating by dipping a fry in the whipped cream, which she knew he hated.

He tossed a cherry at her across the table. "Back at you."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Twitter as [@akaNestra](https://twitter.com/akaNestra) and Tumblr as [changingthingslikeleaves](https://changingthingslikeleaves.tumblr.com/).


End file.
